It must be the eyes
by SeekerOfDeath
Summary: What is it about guys, that even when they're complete jerks, they still pull you in? It must be the eyes... Now, that answers that question...But now why is Ginny hanging around all those Slytherins!
1. Open Your eyes

Just a lil thing that popped into my head while I was sitting watching a cheesy chick flick with the girl I was babysitting. :Damns the chickflicks: You sit there wondering why you watch them, but you just can't bring yourself to turn them off!

"They're so stupid, who would watch this? Why not watch something better, something a bit more entertaining?" Notice all the complaining, done by almost all parties who EVER watch ANY type of chick flick. Yet the majority of people sit through it to the very end, few coming out without teary eyes. I do believe the moaning and whining just makes people feel better because they have an excuse to say they don't like it.

Anyway, on the with the show! Enjoy!

* * *

What is that thing that men have? That they use to just steal your heart the moment you see them, the one that they manipulate to rip apart said stolen heart until you feel as if the broken pieces could fit through a pin head? Did they sit in their beds at night, sharpening that thing, making it ready for the kill? Did they just enjoy seeing your face after saying those fateful words to you? Both the before and after? 

First, they start with the words that make you heart melt, and leave you ready to sacrifice anything in the world just to be with them. The three words that you were told of since you were a little girl, the simple "I love you."

Then they lead you on that, saying it a few times until its a normal occurance, and yet still, it makes butterflies wander around inside of you inside of you until they make themselves at home in the pit of your stomach.

Now, what is it about guys and three letter sentences? Is it a fad that they like to practice? Because the break up line is exactly the same...Three words. "This isn't working." Or, every once in a while, "Lets break up." Sometimes you even get a "Not gonna work."

The only question, really, is why? Why in the world do they even bother to get you to feel for them in the first place? So they can turn around and dump you when you refuse to give them what they want? Why is it so conveniently the day after they unsuccessfully try to get into your pants that they break up with you?

So really, after all this, how can anyone expect you not to come to the conclusion that really, all mean are complete jerks? After all this, why do men keep wondering why we find them unbearable?

And then again, we can only call ourselves complete hypocrites in this ideal. For we know all this, yet we can't help but fall for it every time. We go into a relationship, head over heals for this one guy, but deep inside, we have the gnawing waiting for the end. Every time you would sit with him, holding hands in the dark of the night, you feel this sinking wait for those three words. The bad ones, mind you. So after all this, how can we still go into the relationship at all? Maybe its the eyes..

What was it about him? He was a complete jerk, an ass. He had the worst attitude, the worst mindset, and by lord a ravage brain eating ape with rabies had a better temperament than him. So what was it that had her completely head over heels for him, when he didn't even know she existed? Well...no...take that back...he knew she exsisted...as a little weasel that was a good for throwing the occasional book at...

Maybe it was the eyes...

* * *

Ginny spun around in her bed, throwing her hair back as she buried her head in her cotton pillow. Yeah, it had to be the eyes... Just the way that they seemed to sparkle so maliciously. 

Sparkle maliciously? Dear god, Ginny, get a hold of yourself! I mean, mysteriously, mischievously, lovingly, caringly, hopefully, but maliciously? What in the world is romantic about maliciously? Nothing, thats what. Malicious is meant to be cruel, stupid, idiot, hot, sexy...There you go again...

She sat up, covering her face with her hands. This was getting to be too much. All he ever does is make fun of you! He hates you, he probably wishes that you could just dissapear so he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of bothering you every other day.

"Well, life goes on, Ginny dear." She mumbled, heaving herself out of bed, scuffling to her bathroom, ignoring the complains and groans from her fellow roommates.

* * *

"Watch it, you damned klutz!"

Ginny sighed as she scrambled around the floor where she had fallen, picking up the fallen materials that had flown from her ripped bag. She supposed it was an improvement. The only bad word he used was damned.

"You little bitch."

Well, never mind. She kept her eyes down, fearing that if she looked up, she would be caught forever, and nothing she could do would make her look away. From those eyes of his.

"You're not even going to say anything? You ruined my favorite robes, you tramp!"

Ruined his favorite...? Unable to help her curiosity, she lifted her eyes, and Draco Malfoy came into her view, soaked with the special purple ink George had bought her on her seventh Christmas.

"You better at least offer to fix what you've ruined!" He snarled, looking about ready to pounce on her. Well, don't kid yourself. You'd like that. Bad Ginny! Wrong train of thought!

"Well, go ahead and take them off and I might just miraculously fix them for you." Her eyes went wide, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. Oh god...I so did not just say that...

She was caught in his eyes, waiting for some sort of emotion, anything to suggest what was going to happen to her now. He simply raised an eyebrow, smirked, and moved his thin hands to the top button of his robes.

"HOLY CRAP, I DIDN'T MEAN IT!'" She hollered, grabbing her stuff and backing away quickly, right into the stone wall. Her shout got the attention of a few people, but the minute they noticed it was just little Weasley being picked on again, they went on their way, paying no attention to the two. Draco, no Malfoy, was already on his third button. She knew that the skin to his chest was revealed, but she still couldn't tear her eyes from his. No, no... thats not it. Its him, he's ugly, he's stupid, and I don't want to see anything that-

His snicker brought her out of her thoughts, and she started, clutching her books closer.

"Look at poor, innocent, Weasley. Too scared to look lower than my eyes." His robes were buttoned again, and he was looking at her with that look again, laughing at her inside.

She couldn't say anything, couldn't do anything. She was blank. So she just walked away. Head hung low like a cowering animal. She walked away and didn't look back at him.

Hell, if she looked back at him, she wouldn't be able to look away again.

That was it. It was most definitely the eyes.

* * *

BOP! There we go! Now that you're done reading, scrolly with the mousey and clicky with the purply! 

:Insert happy google dance here:


	2. Closing Your Eyes

Wahoot! 'Nother chappy

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate the feedback

**Shanks to: Evilflyingmonkees, Monkeystarz, and Marabunta for the reviews::hug:**

**Ashen: Shankyuu! I tried my bestest to make him right Hope I kept it up and it wasn't just a fluke, ne? lol**

**Darkangel1: ;; Ne, guys can be so stupid sometimes. **

O O O O O O O O O O

Ginny woke with a start, hand grasping her heart, which was beating wildly. She looked ahead of her, the vision of her dream still lingering in her vision, seeming to be projected on the vibrant red bed sheets.

She covered her face with her hands, making a small sound of frustration.

"Why do I keep thinking about him?" She moaned out, throwing the covers off her in irritation. "Bloody idiot keeps invading my dreams. I bet he does it on purpose." She pouted as she closed the bathroom door, knowing that he was not in her dreams by magical means. She went through her daily schedule in her head, cursing as she remembered that she had a prefect meeting today. They had four prefects, two from Gryffindor, and two from Slytherin. To improve 'house unity' the two Gryffindors worked with the head boy, a slytherin, and the slytherins with head girl, a Gryffindor. It usually wasn't that bad, but then again, Collin was currently in the hospital wing with a quidditch injury…leaving her alone with Draco Malfoy. She kicked her shower off, glowering.

"Damn him for breathing!"

"That's not very lady-like, dearie." Her mirror chided.

"Oh, shut up, you." Ginny jerked on her clothes angrily, storming from the room.

"You forgot your hair, sweetie!" The mirror called out to the room as the door slammed shut. It sat there a few moments, thinking. "Why do I bother with the child? She never does listen to me anymore. Too preoccupied with her things. Oh, blast it. Now look what she's done. Gone and made me talk to myself. That's almost as bad as talking to a mirror."

Ginny stalked through the halls, wet curls bouncing against her shoulders. It wasn't until a shudder of chill ran through her body that she noticed that her hair was dripping water down her back.

/_oh, Gin, you idiot…/_

She shook her head, rubbing the water that was lingering on her neck. Blast trying to fix it now. She didn't know enough of the spells. She had the article that Witch Weekly wrote about it on her sink counter, and she had to look at it every day, sadly enough. She didn't care enough to memorize the directions and incantations. Merlin knew she had enough of that in her weekly homework.

Her steps slowed as she passed the hallway that lead to the charms corridor, the surroundings reminding her of the last time she was in this corridor.

The way his pale skin contrasted with the black robes, his slender fingers dancing on his buttons…But she didn't really see all that. The only thing that mattered was that his eyes were glittering in amusement and misceviousness, and just that look was enough to send her reeling.

She shook her head vigorously, trying to shake the thoughts from her head. She stopped abrubtly as the curls smacked her in the face, and she felt a pang of dizziness. She held up a hand to her head, blinking.

"Ooo…That isn't good…" She muttered to herself, leaning against the wall. "Why the bloody hell did shaking my head affect me so badly?" She was about to shake the thought off, but thinking better of it, she simply walked on. If it hurts the first time, don't do it again…Otherwise, you're an idiot. She took a deep breath as she reached the library door, pausing with her hand on the doorknob, bracing herself for the confrontation she was about to have with Malfoy.

_/You will not look at his face, and if you do, you will not obsess with his eyes. You will not act like a fool and give him reason to tease you. You will not screw up, you will not cause trouble. You will no-/_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft 'ahem' from behind her, and she spun around, preparing to tell whomever it was to bugger off and leave her alone, but the words were ripped from her throat.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Weasley, or were you actually planning on going in?"

"I-um..well- you see…"

Draco rolled his eyes, reaching around behind her to grab the door. Ginny gasped as his body was pressed against her with this movement, and backed up as soon as she could, wrenching the door from his hands and swinging it open. He lost his balance, but placed one foot ahead of him, catching himself gracefully.

_/Like a cat…oh, shut up, Ginny/_

"You little nit!" He cursed, angry. He glared at her a moment, then let out an exasperated sigh, walking around her to get to his table. Taking a deep breath, she followed, hesitantly sitting down across from him.

"Malfoy, about that-"

"I don't give a rats ass, weaselette. Here." He threw a paper down on the table, and she picked it up, looking it over. "Creevey will no longer be working on patrol, so I was forced to change the times."

She looked up at him, surprised. "Why won't Collin be on night patrol?"

The sneer on his face was unsettling, and she shifted in her seat.

"His parents decided that as Creevy got hurt during a quidditch match against the slytherin, that Hogwarts was no longer safe for their son. The little wimp is being sent home today, along with that brat of a brother he has."

Anger rose, showing itself in the pink of her cheeks. "Collin's not a wimp!"

"You always did try and stand up for your little boyfriends." His eyes flashed with mirth, and that was her undoing. She lost what she was going to say back to him, and had to settle with hanging her head, glaring at the table as if it had just set a splinter on her great-grandmother, causing termites to infest her body.

"Who is Dumbledore assigning as the new prefect?"

"Nobody." Draco leaned his chair back onto two legs, placing his feet on the table.

"What do you mean, nobody? He always has two per house…"

"Don't as me. That imbecile of a headmaster is running the show here."

"Don't talk about Dumbledore that way!"

"As a note, threats work much better when you're looking at the person. Unless, of course, your ill feelings lie with that table."

Ginny bit her lip, cursing him for noticing. "This time table has me out past curfew."

"Its been checked by Dumbledore, and permission has been granted for you to stay out later due to the circumstances." He explained, allowing her to change the subject, but only briefly. "So why are you all of a sudden scared of looking at me, Weasley?"

"I never said I was!" She protested.

"Is that why you're still staring at the table?"

"I don't have to look at you if I don't want to, stop being so snobbish."

"Call me that again, Weasely." His voice was low and dangerous, and she looked up at him tentively, breath catching in her chest. People always said that Draco Malfoy never showed any emotion, but she knew that she could prove them wrong. Draco Malfoy showed his emotions quite clearly, and just where he showed it was her undoing. If anyone ever bothered to study those silver-gray eyes, they would always know just what malfoy was thinking. In anger, they shone with a secret fire, when he was enjoying himself, they all but sparkled, and they seemed to darken when he was thinking, turning to an almost cloudy colored grey.

"Y-you're…snobbish." She didn't know where she got the courage to say it, but the words were out of her mouth before she could think, and once she started, she couldn't stop. "You're snobbish and cruel, and stupid. And you don't think of other people's feelings, and you don't care of boundaries, and you know what? You think you're better than other people, and you're not! You're just as low as any muggle born, and if you ask most people, they'd say you're lower!" Her heart raced as the color of his eyes seemed almost black now, dark as they were. She longed for more, longed to see what other reaction she could cause in Draco Malfoy. "You have no common sense, and you…you're as bad as your father, Malfoy!"

She knew the instant she said it that it was a bad idea. His face was suddenly glass, his eyes dull and unreadable. Fear rose in the pit of her stomach, and she was about to stumble out an apology when his chair scrapped on the floor, and he stood. He walked around the table, grabbing her by the back of her robes and dragged her from the library. Words tumbled through her brain, insults, pleas, but none of them reached her tongue. She whimpered slightly as he threw her against a wall, and she vaguely recognized a silencing charm, followed by a blocking charm. Malfoy was making sure that no one was going to interrupt them, and fear exploded in her then.

"D-draco.."

This seemed to infuriate him even more, and in instants, she had the tip of his wand to her throat.

"Don't ever believe you to be in high enough status to speak my name, you rotten weasly!" He bellowed, moving closer, his arm bent as to keep the wand in its spot.

Her lip quivered, and she was tempted to just lower her head and take it, but her anger was still with her from the library, and the famous weasly stubboness played its part.

"You are no higher in status than I am, Dra-co!" She said pointedly.

A sneer pulled onto his face, and his eyes still maintained their glassy cover. "You are in no position to be acting the haughty one, girl." Poison dripped in his voice, and her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I will be haughty as I wish."

"Then you'll be regretting it soon."

"If you do that…You'll only prove me true." She rushed out as he was opening his mouth, to utter a curse, no doubt. She didn't miss the moment's flicker in his eyes, and just that was enough to let her relax, looking up at him in relief.

Her relief, though, seemed to anger him further. "You act as if you're out of trouble just by saying that, you brat."

"But I am, Draco. You won't become him, will you?"

His hand shook on his want, and he snarled as he whipped his hand away. "Get the bloody hell away from me."

She knew better than to stay, she knew better than to enrage him further. Then again, she never did listen to herself. She leaned back against the wall, looking up at him. She didn't even flinch as he punched the wall, leaning in right next to her face.

"I said. Get away."

"You have a blocking charm on the corridor, Draco."

She almost laughed at his look. You could almost describe it as the looked of a kicked puppy. But…not quite. He stared at her for a moment, then jerked away, muttering the counter-curses for the spells he had previously put up. Ginny turned her head, seeing a small trickle of blood run down the jagged bricks of the hallway. Beyond her better judgement, she reached into her pocket, pulling out a handerchief. As she passed him to leave, she grabbed his hand, wrapping it around his knuckles. This time, she knew better than to look at him again.

_/I can't believe I did that…I enraged him simply to see more of his reactions…And I receive the opposite. He closed up…Everything about him closed up…/_

She was leaning against the wall of an empty classroom she had ran into, hugging herself. She stayed there a few minutes, then reluctantly pulled herself up, shuffling back to the Gryffindor common room.

O O O O O O O O O O

As always, leave a review!


	3. Damned Slytherins!

A/N: Whoo, its been a while! ;-; So sorry for my absence in this story, I've sort of been caught up in my other two rapidly growing stories, 'Corvus' Cry' and 'Broken Dreams'. Not a good excuse, I know, but I promise not to forget about _any_ of my stories! They will be gotten to, if not with a bit more delay than the others. ; For now, enjoy the story.

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"You're going to comb it all off if you keep doing that, sweetie."

Ginny glared daggers at her mirror, dragging the brush more vigorously through her already silky mane.

"You're just going on patrol, I don't see why you're so ner-"

"Shut up!" Ginny slammed her brush down on the counter with a vengeance, "Before I charm you silent!"

She jerked up some eyeliner, a product she very rarely used, and screamed in frustration as she prodded herself in the eye with it. She through it back down venomously, much like she had her brush, although with the smaller weight, it simply bounced off the counter and landed at her feet. She spun around on her heel, stalking from the bathroom.

"You've forgotten your wand, dear. Wouldn't want you to lose it down the sink."

She was going to _kill_ that mirror.

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"I won't tolerate you being late again, Weasley."

Draco's cold voice met her ears before she had even reached his spot in the corridor, and she looked up at him with indignance, before tearing her eyes away.

"I got held up."

"I don't care why. Don't do it again." She cursed at the superior tone in his voice, the silken drawl sending her stomach into flutters. He stepped past her, his robes brushing on her arm, and she had to spin and scurry after him to keep up. Her shorter legs had to make double the effort to keep up with his longer strides, her feet pattering on the floor.

"Um, if you could just tell me which hallways I'm-"

"Dumbledore is having us make the entire rounds together tonight, so you can get used to your patrol. Seeing as you obviously must live in a single bedroom house, he thinks that you need some extra help finding your way around such a huge place."

Ginny felt the familiar surge of anger at his words, her lip catching in between her teeth to hold back a scathing remark. She didn't need another experience like the other day, exhilarating as it might have been.

The patrol passed in relative silence, and Ginny was able to hold back her words at his insults, for the most part. By the time they had reached the dungeons, the last area of their work for the night, her bottom lip was swollen from being worried so much, the pink skin puffed and awkward feeling where her teeth marks were still embedded. Her legs were sore from having to make such hurried steps for him, and her chest burned a little at the rare exercise. She had never been assigned the dungeons before, as the slytherins usually got that 'privilege', just as the Gryfindors were able to patrol the uppermost towers, nearer to their dormitories. So, as they walked through the winding hallways, she tried her best to remember which turns they had made, which direction they had come from. Unfortunately, Ginny was horrible at directions, and soon lost her way. She felt a blossom of thankfulness in her chest at having Malfoy with her, or she would never be able to find her way back.

She was shivering by the time they stopped, and lifting her head from where her eyes had been glued to the ground, she blinked. Draco was currently staring at a dead end, seemingly completely forgotten about her. An ornate picture hung at the end of the corridor, a dark looking woman glaring out at them. More so at her, really.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask Malfoy just what they were doing, he mumbled something, and the portrait swung open. Looking into the portrait hole, she saw a room beautifully decorated in greens, silvers, and blacks, and her mind linked this room to Draco's head boy dormitory. Her mind snapped back from admiring his room, however, when he moved to step inside, completely ignoring her.

"Wait! Malfoy! I don't know my way back from here!"

Draco turned his head, smirking as his deft fingers pulled at his tie. "Sounds like a personal problem to me, Weasley." The portrait swung shut then, the lady glaring down her nose at her until she turned around, hopelessly looking down the corridor.

"I don't suppose you would be all to keen on helping me, huh?" She asked in a small voice, looking over her shoulder at the snobbish woman. She didn't even wait for the haughty laugh to start walking away.

---------

"Well, well, look what we have here."

Ginny's eyes snapped open at the snobbish voice, her eyes landing on a pair of disgustingly perfect legs, donning black knee socks. She lifted her head, grimacing.

"What do you want, Pansy?" She snapped, the next question on her tongue being 'why are you in my room', when the cold floor underneath her informed her that, no, she was not in her room, and that it rather hurt her back to be bent upon a corner as she was.

"Well, shit." She mumbled, sighing as she waited for Pansy to stop making a show of looking around, obviously to try and annoy Ginny.

"Oh! Is that what you've always got stuck on those second rate shoes of yours?" She asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

Ginny glared at her as she stood, brushing the dirt off of her skirt, ignoring the goosebumps that had appeared in retaliation to the cold. "I'm _so_ insulted, Pansy. Your opinion just means so much to me, I do suppose I should go clean off my shoes for you..."

Pansy just sneered at her. "I'd watch your mouth, Weasley. You're not exactly in the best place to be flapping your gums."

"Ooo, yes, You're right, I'm in 'big bad Slytherin' territory now, Aren't I?"

Pansy merely smirked, a victorious glimmer in her eyes, and Ginny had to fight from shifting nervously at that look. Pansy never looked that confident about anything, unless she had her Slytherin buddies around to back her up, and as far as she could see, they were the only ones in the corridor. Her hand reached slowly for her pocket, discreetly trying to grab her wand before Pansy could notice.

The girl, however, did notice, and the look on her face was nearly pure bliss. Ginny's face fell as her hand grasped empty pocket fuzz, and her eyes snapped to Pansy's as the other girl held up her hand nonchalantly, twirling a wand in between her fingers. Ginny's wand.

"Big bad Slytherin territory is right, Weasley. The bottom dungeons, to be exact. I have no idea how you got down here, but I can assure you, you won't be getting out."

"Y-you won't get away with that..."

"Stuttering? You don't sound too sure of yourself."

_/'Yeah, unlike you, you cocky little-'/_

"Even if you do curse me, its not like no one will know." Ginny said, forcing a sureness into her voice.

"Did you know, Weaslette, that when they're trying to figure out who cursed a person, they do a spell called 'Ab Defigo'. And seeing from your face, you obviously have no idea what that is. Shall we have a little history lesson?"

Ginny was about to snap that, no, she did not want a history lesson, and that Pansy could shove it up her... Well, she'd just leave it at the fact that spouting words to a person holding your wand wasn't always a smart idea. So instead, she stood there, biting her lip angrily.

"Its a spell that, when used, tell what wand used the last spell that hit you. Notice the word _wand._" Pansy drawled, talking as if she were explaining something to a particularly stupid two-year-old. "Because, Weasley, there is no spell that can tell you the person that was using that wand. Sure, you'd figure that they might come up with one, might help with a few murders. But, point being. There isn't one. Do you see your dilemma here now? All that the headmaster or anyone else will find...Is an insane sixth year who turned her wand on herself."

Panic rose in Ginny's system as her own wand came to point directly in front of her eyes, not even giving her time to dwell on the fact that it seemed that, yes, Pansy did own a brain, and that yes, she was using it. As it were, more important thoughts were currently pushing to the front of her brain. Things like 'run' and 'duck' or 'DO SOMETHING BUT JUST STAND THERE, YOU IDIOT!'.

The action that won out eventually, though, was 'Stand there and gape like an idiot while a curse is about to hit you in the face.'

A strange, whimpering sound tore from her throat as she felt a tingle of a spell hit her hard, and the cold of the dungeon floor, until her entire mind reeled, and the only thing she could focus on was keeping from letting her world go black. It almost seemed that if she concentrated on the light coming from the torch on the wall, that everything was a little better. So, clinging to hope, she desperately stared at it, breathing in heavy, rhythmic gasps as her entire body shot with an unwelcome dizziness. In the corner of her eye, she vaugly noticed a dark, black blotch standing next to the blob she knew to be Pansy, and wondered who the girl had brought to laugh at her misery with. A few moments time told her that maybe it wasn't laughing, as it distinctively heard like yelling. What seemed like an eternity later, she felt two strong, warm arms wrap around her, hefting her into the air. The sudden jolt broke the concentration she had with the light, and she passed out seconds later.

It smelled like rosemary. The sweet scent when the herb had been laying out in the sun to dry, and then dumped into a boiling pot of water, causing steam and heavenly aromas to lift into the air. Ginny's body had a dull ache to it, and her eyes were heavy. She opted to just leave them closed and suck in that beautiful scent. Just as she got a particularly strong smell of the herb, the events that had just passed – Or had they passed days ago? Ginny couldn't even tell – came gushing back into her head with a force that would have knocked down a buffalo. She snapped up, her eyes shooting open and flying frantically around her. There wasn't much to see, as she found herself sitting in the middle of a four poster bed, though larger than the ones that adorned the student dorms. Soft black silk shifted underneath her as she tentivly sat up on her knees, a hand reaching out to pull back the heavy black curtains that was blocking her view off from wherever she was. As she pushed the material out of the way, a very simple, black room came into sight. The only other furniture other than the bed she was sitting on was a large wardrobe in the corner, and a short nightable that barely reached the end of the mattress. Her gaze brought to the night table, she noticed two small, empty vials sitting there innocently. She picked one up, hesitantly sniffing through the small opening in the top. Regrettably, she was disdainfully horrible at potions, and could well have been sniffing a death potion or a bone restorative.

She set it back down with a small 'plink' as the glass met the wood, and draped her legs off the edge of the bed to reach the floor. She noticed with a slight smile, that it was not the night table that was short as she had thought. The bed itself was taller than most that she had been on, and that by sitting on the edge and stretching out her legs, the tips of her toes just barely grazed the soft, fluffy rug underneath. She really did let out a small chuckle as she got to the ground, her feet sinking into the rug, long tendrils of warm carpet sticking through her toes. This, though, also came with the fact that someone had taken off her shoes. While it wasn't that much of a deal, it also meant that she had been out really deeply, and if she hadn't noticed the articles being removed, Merlin knew what else they could have done. This sent a shiver through her body, and she was only slightly comforted by the fact that she was very much fully clothed with exception to her shoes and socks.

Any pleasant feeling she might have felt at the almost humorous bed and carpet left her as she slowly made her way across the room towards the slightly cracked door, making sure that her footsteps and breaths made absolutely not sound. Grabbing a hold of the iron handle, she pulled the door open slowly, her entire body tense and ready to slam it back shut should she see something that she didn't want to.

The sight that played before her eyes, though, did anything but frighten her. Had the circumstances been different, she would have laughed out loud.

In front of her, Severus Snape, in all his bat-like, cloak billowing glory, standing with a white apron over his shoulders and bent over a cutting board, steam raising around his ears as the ingredient next to him softly shimmered and boiled in its cauldron. She stood there for several tense minutes, watching his thin hands deftly cut paper thin shreds of whatever-the-hell-it-was on the cutting board.

"P-professor?" She whispered into the room, literally jumping when his head snapped up, his cold dark eyes meeting hers. Her eyes fell to the knife as he stuck it into the wood with a quick, hard swipe, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Finally up, I see."

Ginny forced her eyes back up to meet his, swallowing and licking dry lips before she could speak.

"Am I in your quarters...Professor?"

"Well you are most certainly not in the hospital wing, Ms Weasley."

She was about to ask just why he had not taken her to the hospital wing, when a revelation sent her throat clenching in realization and anger.

"You're doing this so they don't know what Pansy did."

"Ms Parkinson was in the common room the entire morning. If you do not believe me, you may ask her roommates." Snape's voice was cold, the silk words dancing across the room to her. Her fists clenched, her face contorting in anger.

"I can't _believe _you!" She spat out, fire dancing in her eyes. "I can't believe it! You would lie for a stupid Slytherin when she tried to illegally curse me in the school! You greasy little gi-"

"Twenty points for your language, Ms Weasley." Snape interrupted smoothly, turning to grab his knife and start cutting again. "Your things are by the door, you may leave."

deterred from arguing again by the warning in his voice, she stormed to the door, trying to convince herself that it wasn't the knife in his hands that was keeping her from yelling back. By the time that she had her shoes back on and was grabbing the wand from the table next to the door, his voice came back to her.

"If you use the brain you must have in there somewhere, perhaps you'd know."

Ginny paused with her hand on the door, about to ask what he meant by that, when a look behind her sent her scuttling away from the room and the insane man inside of it. She started walking briskly down the corridor, with every intention to go straight to Dumbledore's office and tell him everything that had happened.

Well, maybe...not _straight_ there. She stopped walking with a frustrated scream, close to tears as she spun around on her heels. Snape's quarters were very obviously not on the same floor as his classroom, and she found herself in the exact same predicament that had plagued her the night before.

She was hopelessly and utterly lost.

And, currently, snuggled into the chest of Blaise Zabini. With a startled cry, she put her hands on his chest, shoving away from him. He stood there, arms out in innocence, raising an aristocratic eyebrow at her.

"Now, Weaslette, if you wanted me that bad, you could've just said so."

"Ugh! You disgusting git!" She glared at him, breathing hard, her hair falling haphazardly around her shoulders, her robes wrinkled and dusty. He took in her appearance with amusement, leaning back as he looked her up and down.

"You doin' ok, Weasel? You don't look to great."

Ginny didn't answer, glaring at him as she stepped to the side to walk past him. He stepped with her though, blocking her path. She bit in her anger, and stepped to the other side, but he effectively stopped her again.

"The only thing down this corridor is Professor Snape's private quarters, and I don't see what a Gryffindor would need down there." He said, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Thats it!" Ginny snapped, grabbing her wand from her pocket, pointing it at him threateningly. I've had _enough_ of you blasted Slytherin's! Get out of my way!"

"A prefect, threatening another student? I could have your badge for that, Weasley."

Draco's voice drifted from behind her, and made her entire body tense up.

As would be expected, Draco thought he had successfully frightened the little Weasley chit once again, and would soon see her with her eyes plastered to the ground.

Blaise, however, saw her face. Her eyes flamed up in anger, her cheeks tinting red and her knuckles white as her grasp on her wand tightened. He desperately tried to send a signal to his friend with his eyes, but Malfoy wasn't looking at him.

And so, when Ginny spun around, pure hatred etched onto her face, he was taken aback.

"You...Bloody...Prick..." She ground out, sounding as if she was bordering on the edge of insanity. "This is ALL. YOUR. FAULT!" She screeched, and Draco winced at the sound. "You bloody brought me down here to patrol, and left me in the middle of the dungeons! It was a 'personal problem' if I didn't know my way back, huh? Was it a personal problem that I woke up with my wand gone and a bloody insane bitch in my face? Was it a personal problem that I nearly lost my memory and sanity, and probably wouldn't have been found until the next time you drug your skinny arse down here on patrol? Was it a bloody personal problem if I woke up the next time, after being CURSED in no one else's but Snape's bed, just to find that said bitch, to his words, 'was in her bloody dormitory the entire time'! Is it a bloody personal problem that I'm STILL BLOODY LO-"

Her words were promptly cut off by a large hand over her mouth, and she went immediately to bite at it. The owner of the hand, however, had obviously done this before, as he managed to place it just out of her reach. Frustrated tears were running down her face, and she stood glaring at Malfoy. If only looks could kill. He shook himself out of his shock, but still stood there silent, just looking at her.

"Well, looks like we'll have to take you back, then, won't we?" He finally drawled, his face looking almost...Neutral. Right before his words, Ginny had been prepared to deliver a well deserved kick in the privates when his words hit her, and she paused in shock as he walked over, grabbing one of her arms, nodding to Zabini as he took the other.

Her mouth now free, she began to scream her head off, trying to jerk away from them until they both teamed up on her and sent her a steely glare. Her scream died off, and she stared at them, blinking as she noticed that Blaise's eyes were an almost golden, yellow color, a stark contrast to Draco's Silver.

She shoved the thought to the back of her mind, cursing the weakness eyes always had on her. She felt horrid, and finally gave up, peacefully walking with them, too tired to do anything else.

Her mind wandered as they walked, her head hung to watch the bricks move by underneath her. She smiled at their brown color, and entertained herself with turning them yellow in her head, like the pathetic muggle movie her father had forced her to watch once he had gotten himself a hold of a 'television'. Promptly after she had her Yellow Brick road in place, she dubbed Draco the 'Tin man' and Blaise the 'Scarecrow.' She held down a giggle at the naming. Yes, Of course Zabini would be the brainless scarecrow. What thing with a mind would hang around Draco Malfoy, the heartless tin man?

This, plus the revelation that the way their arms were intertwined just like the movie, brought her giggles vocal. She had mirth in her eyes, and a smile on her face as she fought not to fall into complete laughter. The two boys at the side of her must have thought she was crazy. As she looked up to say something to this effect, her face paled.

In front of them was the great hall, every head swiveled to the door where the three of them were standing.

Allow me to reiterate this. The great hall door, the entrance from the dungeons mind you, with three people standing there.

Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister, best friend of Harry Potter, happily squished in between the two most notorious Slytherin's of the school, _giggling._

Dread filled her system at the astonished faces, her own quickly blotching red in embarrassment. Through the crowd, she caught the eyes of her brother, who was currently being held back by Hermione and Harry. It was a scene she saw a lot, the two having to hold him back on account of Draco Malfoy. This time seemed a bit different, though, she realized with a sinking feeling. Ron's glare was directed at _her_, not Malfoy. Tears filled her eyes, and with a sudden burst of strength, she tore her arms from the other two, fleeing the hall without a word. Their laughter was the last thing that met her ears before she dissapeared down the hall.

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Woot! Well there's a chapter that isn't very often! XD I definitely wrote more than what I usually do! The scary thing, folks, is that this is only half of what I've got written right now! I've been working on writing this in a journal I carry around at school, and of course, when I type it up, I fix it up a helluva lot. Well, so...it got long O.O.

The next chapter will be placed up soon, but there's still some things I want to tweak with, so expect it (hopefully) by Monday afternoon .

I live off of reviews, and they are greatly appreciated! Shank you aaaaall!


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